


confidence is key

by assassin_trifecta



Series: Harriscofest 2018 [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cisco has the confidence he's always deserved, Harry gets handsy, M/M, harriscofest 2018, obligatory gala fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 08:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15529962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assassin_trifecta/pseuds/assassin_trifecta
Summary: Harry invites Cisco to a gala in his name, and Cisco learns that a new suit can work more wonders than he's prepared for.





	confidence is key

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: confident harry makes confident cisco's knees buckle (at least weaken slightly)

Confidence

A new suit does wonders for the mind, especially one tailored so professionally. Cisco had suits taken in before, but that was by his Aunt Rosa or his abuela for his first communion or his eighth grade graduation. Or that one time they made him go to prom and bickered over him about his hair and his body in Spanish like they did to the white ladies at the supermarket to make them uncomfortable, but he could understand most of what they were saying. It had sapped the confidence right out of him.

            But this? This was something else completely different. Harry had invited him to an upcoming gala he was required to attend. Like all things, Harry had made it seem like a chore, and Cisco was immediately nervous about the whole ordeal. It was on Earth-2, of course, and their fashion was so _different_ that it made Cisco’s head spin. Not to mention their science. Not to mention the _people_.

            These were Harry’s peers that he was dealing with. Geniuses in their own right and major million, billion dollar CEOs and presidents and scientists. Politicians. Sometimes, Cisco forgot that his boyfriend was Harrison Wells, CEO, President, seven time doctorate, philanthropist, genius, bad-boy scientist. He forgot that on Earth-2, Harry wasn’t just… Harry. Wasn’t just the grumpy genius that the team – that _Cisco_ – had come to love. He’d been so… _down_ the past few weeks, with everything that had happened with Jesse. Cisco wanted to see him flourish again, like he had the last time they had gone to Earth-2.

            He’d almost declined the offer, told Harry that he didn’t feel comfortable with it.

            _“We don’t have to go, you know. It’s just what – some party? You skip work like, all the time, dude.”_

 _“It’s not just_ some party _. It’s in my honor, Ramon. The particle accelerator is in its third year and Central has just gone completely energy independent. They’re naming the new science building at CCU after me. Normally I would just show up for a speech and leave, or take Jesse and deal with it, but-“_

_Cisco shook his head, waved it away. He understood. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go with you.”_

_“Good. We need to get you dressed.”_

And Harry had meant it. The gala wasn’t that night but they’d need to prepare. There were names and publications and reporters and publicists crawling all over the place, Harry had told him. They needed to look their best. Cisco had seen Harry’s home closet all of once, and he understood. There were suits in there that probably cost as much as Cisco’s apartment. When they’d approached the tailor, Cisco had wanted to decline again, saying he’d rent something on Earth-One, that Harry didn’t have to go through all the fuss for him. It didn’t make him uncomfortable when Harry threw his money around, but it made him anxious when Harry threw his money around for _him._

            “Nonsense, I want to.”

            And that had been it.

            In hindsight? Cisco doesn’t know why he put up a fight. Standing in Harry’s closet – how the man has a walk in closet with angled mirrors and top notch lighting while wearing up to two black henleys a week, Cisco will never understand – he can see why Harry would want it this way. Their order took four days to complete, but it’s completely worth it. The suit was burgundy, slim, and fit him like a glove. It was silk smooth and well pressed and with his hair framing his face the way Harry liked it, there’s no denying.

            He looks good.

            It’s a bolster to his confidence that he didn’t know he needed still. He’d been nervous all night, too keyed up to sleep even after Harry had his way with him more times than he could count. But looking at himself now, he feels at ease. The cut of the fabric and the way it frames his legs and shoulders and waist, the way his new shoes taper out to a point – it makes him look taller, buffer. More imposing and less of a geeky lab nerd.

            He’s just finished tying his tie when Harry pops his head into the closet. Cisco’s heart does somersaults in his chest and his stomach jumps backflips between his lungs and the floor. Harry had been measured at the same time but they’d been in separate rooms, he hadn’t seen the suit that Harry was going to be getting until now.

            The black slims him, fabric so matte dark that he sucks in the light of the closet and makes it his own. The shirt beneath it is crisp and white in contrast, the glaring difference between Harry’s suit and his pale skin only making him sharper, more feline and attractive. Cisco has never seen Harry like this. Sure, he’s seen Thawne in some expensive suits in the past, but nothing like this. Even his eyes seemed brighter because of it.

            He only realizes that his mouth is hanging open when Harry clears his throat.

            “Ready?”

            “Yeah- yeah. You just- wow. You look good, Harry.”

            The man’s lips – so red now, against the monochrome of his suit – spread into a smile.

            “And _you_ look like we’re never going to make it out of the house if you keep me here for much longer.”

            Fuck. The answer shoots heat straight through his veins, but Cisco manages a smirk right back at his boyfriend. Harry may have been a dick in the beginning, but some of the things he says these days make Cisco feel like he could take on a thousand samuroids and still have the energy for more.

           

The gala is in the CCU ballroom. Why CCU has a ballroom on this Earth, Cisco isn’t about to question, but he guesses there are some dance classes or theater programs that don’t exist on his. Whatever the case, it’s a sprawling room with gilded crown moulding, actual frescoes on the domed ceiling, marble floors, and so much mouthwatering catering that Cisco has no idea what to do with himself.

            “Hold out just a little longer,” Harry whispers to him, leaning down so that he can brush a lock of hair behind Cisco’s ear and look as though he’s only casually kissing his date. It makes the butterflies come back to Cisco’s belly, but for completely different reasons than his nerves. He’s _certainly_ never seen Harry like this. “There are some people that I need to speak with first.”

            So Harry leads him around the ballroom, hand planted firmly on the small of Cisco’s back. Sometimes they stop to speak to a single person, sometimes molding into the conversation of a group of men and women around Harry’s age. They all hold the same aura of wealth and dignity that Harry does, but none of them compares. Harry speaks so firmly, so calmly, so _sure_ of himself that Cisco is almost dizzy with it. Gone is the Harry Wells that throws things his frustration or talks down to the team when they question his motives or ideas. Here is a man among peers, back held straight and chin held high.

            He’s in his element, Cisco realizes. This is what he’s made his name doing.

When they pause for more than a moment or two in conversation, Harry’s thumb rubs circles into the small of Cisco’s back, tracing lower and lower until his palm iss resting just above the swell of his ass. It sets Cisco’s body on fire, his mind near frazzled, and then they move on, Harry’s hand going back to its original position so he can guide him further into the crowd.

            “You’re doing spectacularly,” Harry mentions offhandedly while they have a moment to themselves. He snags two champagne flutes from a passing waiter in one hand with such ease that Cisco wonders how many times he’s done it to get so practiced that he doesn’t spill a drop. “I’m glad I brought you tonight.”

He can tell that Harry is telling the truth. Cisco has kept up well, spurred on by the burst of confidence he’s gotten from his suit and the first few easy introductions that Harry has guided him through. After that, it’s been easy. These people may have been older and richer, but they’re his intellectual equals. More than once already, he’s outspoken a few of Harry’s lab directors, much to his boyfriend’s approval. No one questions him here, no one talks down to him because of his age or his race or for hanging off of Harry’s arm. He likes Earth-Two. He can get used to this.

            And Harry? God, he never ceases to amaze Cisco. Together, they find their table, Harry leading them with his hand now a permanent fixture on Cisco’s back, rubbing those little circles despite the fact that they’re still moving. Cisco is grateful to see that the tables are already set, meaning that their dinner is going to be served soon. He’s had a few hors d’oeuvres so he can have meaningful conversations about caviar and brie, but he’s starving. When they sit, Harry captures him in a gaze that shoots so far south he’s glad there’s tablecloth covering him. The hand on his back travels down to his thigh.

            “Are you enjoying yourself?”

            “I’ve never wanted you more than I do right now.” The confession tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop himself, and Cisco is grateful the other guests that are placed at their table haven’t found their way over yet, even if he’s barely spoken above a whisper

            Harry’s hand climbs further up his thigh. He gives a squeeze just below Cisco’s groin that makes the world turn upside down.

            “Maybe when we’re free from the crowd…”

            “Oh my god-“

            “It may not be up to your standards, but I can easily pay off the bathroom attendant.” The hand on his thigh travels just over the growing bulge in Cisco’s trousers, and that thumb of his massages circles over Cisco’s cock. Harry is leaning closer to him, so much so that Cisco can feel his warm breath against his cheek.

            “ _Fuck_ -“

            “Would you be able to wait for me, my love? Through an entire boring speech and a dinner?”

            “I might pass out.”

            “I could fuck those nerves right out of you.”

            “ _Harry_ -“

            “Are you alright, my love?” Before Cisco can process the question or why Harry’s voice is suddenly so much louder, Harry pulls back, the hand over Cisco’s groin leaving a cold, empty space in its wake as Harry cups Cisco’s cheeks instead.

            “Harrison-! Ohp – forgive me, are we interrupting something?” A boisterous, almost comically 19th century Captain of Industry voice that Cisco recognizes from earlier in the night interrupts them, and he realizes immediately after that the man must be once of their table mates. Color floods Cisco’s cheeks, but Harry merely smiles, stands and bows his head to the old man in greeting. The bastard, there’s not even a tent in his pants.

            As they’re sitting back down, Harry places his hand over Cisco’s wrist, in plain view of everyone but it still sends a thrill through him.

            “It’s my poor partner. This is the first time Jesse hasn’t taken his place as my date, and I’m afraid the crowd as overwhelmed him.” The lie spills out with such ease that it reminds Cisco of Harry’s dubious nature when they first met.

            Their table partner and his pretty date – his wife? – both smile at him. It’s not condescending at all, and Cisco is relieved. The woman reaches over and pats the top of Cisco’s free hand.

            “It happens to all of us, doesn’t it? I remember my debut ball, I was so nervous I spent the first half hour sick in the bathroom. But you’re taking care of him, aren’t you, Harrison?” She directs her question at Harry. The maternal sternness in her voice coupled with the way she addresses Harry makes Cisco realize that… they might even be his friends.

            “Why, of course.” Harry smiles so charmingly that Cisco is glad he’s sitting down or his newly made gelatin legs might just crumble out beneath him. Harry’s eyes glitter when he turns the full force of that charm – and that knowing of what they had done before – back on Cisco.

            “I’m taking _excellent_ care of him.”


End file.
